The Carrion Gulch Chronicles
by AlidaHush
Summary: Pre series. Angst. Violence. This is the story of how it all began for Spike.
1. Chapter 1

The Carrion Gulch Chronicles

_The Age of Drusilla And Spike_

_A vampire is a creature who feeds off of a living animal such as a human. In order to survive, vampires must feed often and in large quantities..._

_In the early 1800's a gothic vampire named Drusilla sired a young nobleman, William Harding. William was in his early twenties when he was turned and lived for well over 120 years after under the alias of Spike. He crowned himself this after the Massacre of the Noble Gents, where he used railroad spikes to impale his victims through either the heart or head or crusify them on the walls of their homes. For ten days, every nobleman that Harding had known or had contact with was killed in this fashion..._

_Around the same time as the siring of William Harding, a young noblewoman, Cecily Adams was to marry a gentleman from the family of Romanis. The Romanis family was wealthy and well known for their taste in woman. However, three days before the wedding, Adams found her soon-to-be husband crusified to their bedroom wall with railroad spikes..._

Chapter One

Her lips were soft, gentle. They were everything William imagined them to be and more. Perhaps it was his heightened senses, or perhaps it was Drusilla's beauty, but he could swear that he could almost hear the blood sing inside of him. The new blood. The blood he had taken from another.

"Is it always like this?" he breathed, still lost in his senses. Drusilla laughed into his mouth and kissed him again. "Is it always so..."

"Wonderful?" she finished, putting the words, literally, into his mouth. William nodded, begging to be kissed again. Drusilla wrapped her arms around his waist and pulled him closer. Again and again she kissed his lips, pressing harder, wandering deeper. William accepted the beautiful torture over and over again until he felt his lips bruise. Even then, he never wanted the feeling to end. He never wanted to feel anything else for the rest of his life...

"Drusilla?" a voice asked from the opposite end of the ally. Drusilla broke away, turning to face the newcomer. Even in the shadow, William could see that he was tall, broad and thick. He took a few swaggering steps forward and into the moonlight. His new lover giggled and strode forward, leaving William to fend alone.

"Oh, Daddy, look what I've made." she said, her voice laced with mischief. William smiled, unsure of himself and this new creature standing before him. The tall man stepped closer, a scowl now apparent on his features.

"And what exactly is _it_." the man asked, towering over William with a sense of seniority. Drusilla placed a gloved hand over the man's bicep and cooed into his ear,

"A new toy. I found it all broken to pieces. But I fixed it. Made it new again." she whispered, running her tongue over her teeth. William cocked his head and narrowed his eyes at Drusilla. The man just laughed and reached out roughly, taking William by the throat. Quickly, Will reached up and clawed at the massive hands crushing his larynx. Dru just watched, her lips pursed.

"Now, now, Daddy. Don't hurt him. He's been such a good boy." she said, laced fingers tickling the coat pocket over the man's chest. Angel glanced at her and then back at William.

"So, is this your revenge?" he asked, slowly releasing William's throat. Drusilla hung her head and looked up through her lashes. Suddenly, she barked and snapped at the man's face.

"Revenge is for the wicked. I only want to play." she admitted. "Made a new toy so I'm never alone."

She slowly slithered from behind the man and seductively sauntered toward Will. "Made a new friend. Darker than night. Blacker than black. Sweeter than honey and sharper than..." she stopped, reaching out and stroking the side of William's face. She giggled and turned back to the tall brute. "Sharper than spikes."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

"You've been moping all night. Why wont you dance with me?" Drusilla asked, watching as Spike looked out the window onto the London streets. A scowl sat firmly on his lips and he neither acknowledged, nor looked at his lover when she spoke.

"Spike," she cooed, padding up beside him and laying a hand on his shoulder. She let her fingers dance over the clothe of his sleeve and up the back of his neck. He closed his eyes at the sensory overload, but waited for her hand to come to rest. "I know what you're thinking." Spike looked over at her suddenly, brows knit.

"S'at right?"

Drusilla nodded and brought a hand over his heart. "I can taste it when you talk. You want her more than you want me."

Spike shook his head quickly and took her in his arms. "Could never want anyone more than you." he said sincerely. Drusilla looked down.

"Your heart sings wif her,"

"It sings with _you_. Only you, love."

"You want her dead," she replied, menacing grin growing over her lips. "I told you I can taste it." she let her tongue dart out and tickle the side of his neck.

"Cecily..." Spike breathed, realizing what she meant. Drusilla barked suddenly and growled low in her throat.

"Bad dog. Takes away our fun and games. Want to make her pay, you do."

"Want her to suffer." Spike agreed, kissing Dru full on the mouth. Drusilla bit his bottom lip playfully and opened her eyes. She released him suddenly, and backed away toward the front door, fully intent on going out and killing her at that moment. Spike sighed and shook his head.

"Dru, love, I can't."

"Why not?" she pouted.

"I can't kill 'er." he replied sadly , stepping forward and taking Dru by the waist.

"Never said you had to kill her. Only make her suffer for all her sins." Dru suggested, motioning toward the fireside table. Beneath a stack of books peaked a bright white piece of paper. Spike quickly reached over and took it, reading it carefully.

"Romanis." he breathed. "She's marrying a Romanis."

In his anger he crumpled the wedding invitation between his fingers and threw it into the fire. Drusilla clucked and stroked the side of his face.

"She's been a naughty girl, she has. Naughty, naughty..."

"Very naughty indeed." Spike replied angrily, letting his demon face emerge. With a sharp growl, he threw open the door, took Drusilla by the hand and lead her out onto the busy London streets.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

"Why must women always be so...floral about everything?" Patrick asked, picking up a daisy and twirling it between his fingers.

"Darling, this is our wedding, you know?" Cecily replied with a chuckle. Patrick smiled and swept the young thing into his arms, kissing her full and deep. He trailed the daisy over her cheek and shook his head.

"Why don't we run away."

"Away? From what?" Cecily asked, confused. Patrick sighed and shook his head.

"This," he tossed the daisy into the burning fire. "This wedding, my family. Your family."

"Why would you ever want that? Don't you want us to be married?"

"Of course I do! But not here. Not with all these bothersome people." Patrick admitted, sitting in an oversized armchair near the warmth of the fire.

"Patrick..." Cecily sighed, leaning against the table that held the vase of daisies. "You know we can't."

"I know. I just don't know _why_." he sighed again, pressing his cheek to the tops of his folded hands.

"Miss Adams?" a voice called from the entrance of the library. Cecily looked up to see a young maid servant standing there, rather uneasily.

"Yes, Maggie?" Cecily asked, standing. Maggie swallowed and motioned toward the atrium.

"There's a man here to see you. He said his name was William Harding." she said softly, as if she were afraid that Patrick might overhear. Cecily turned sharply to stare at Maggie.

"You lie." she said curtly. Maggie blanched and shook her head madly.

"Please, m'lady. He's in the atrium, waiting." Maggie said softly. Cecily took a calming deep breathe and made her way slowly toward the foyer.

"Cecily? Darling?" Patrick asked, quickly striding toward her. Cecily held up her hand, silencing her fiance. "What is it? You've gone pale." he whispered, reaching for her hand.

"Please, Patrick, I really must see to this matter alone." she said softly, a slight quiver rising in her throat.

Swiftly, she made her way to the atrium, smoothing her dress and wondering what exactly it was she was going to say. _You're supposed to be dead. They said that you died!_

As she crossed the threshold into the expanse of the marble atrium, she noticed him standing and starring at a cherub statue near the door to the library.

"William?" she breathed, hoping to God that when he turned around it would be some horrible mistake. But it wasn't. It was, indeed, William. The awkward glance, the lopsided smile. It was indeed William through and through.

"Cecily." he said with a smile. "You look as though you've seen a ghost."

She gave a light chuckle.

"No, no. I only heard..." she stopped, pressing a hand to her forehead. She had no idea what to say. William was...incompitant, embarassing and awkward. She was so sure that the reports had been true. _You were dead and buried and now you're back. Four days before my wedding._

"Cecily?" he asked, walking forward and laying a hand over hers. To her surprise, it was quite cool. "Are you alright?"

"I thought you were dead." she snapped, stepping away quickly. William's face deepened and he shook his head in awe.

"Dead? No, of course not. Who's been-"

"That's all they spoke of. Your death. Some animal..." she said, turning her back toward him. At the word 'animal' she could have sworn she heard him growl. But, she dismissed it on account of her shock and simply sighed.

"I came to-"

"Please go. I told you once before I've no interest in an aquatence with you, Mr. Harding." she whispered, tears begging to flow down her cheeks. She looked up at William through the haze of her tears and saw that his face was no longer that of an awkward boy. Somehow, he looked aged and cold all of a sudden. His eyes narrowed with hatred and his lips were pressed into a thin line.

He glanced toward the room were Patrick waited patiently. He smiled quickly and snapped his attention back to Cecily. With a curt nod he turned and strode toward the door. But, before Maggie could open it for him, he turned back to face her.

"Oh, and Cecily? I should hope that, for your sake, the rumors about me are, indeed, false." he said, menacing grin crawling across his features.

Cecily cocked her head slightly in fright and watched as the insecure little boy she once knew padded softly down the marble steps and out the front door.

"Good Lord..." she whispered.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

The house was quiet, only the sound of the atrium fountain could be heard. Patrick sent the servants out for the night, as well as Cecily. He needed some time alone to work on his latest project and he did not need her chatter about the wedding in his ear. The architecture would have to be perfect for the DeLorne home. He wanted no distractions from anyone.

Just as he was about to make the finalizing line on the east wing, he heard a thump from down the hall. He looked up, squinting into the darkness.

"Hello? Cecily?" he called, trying to make out any movement. When there was none, he simply shook his head and returned to his work. The east wing would be tricky. He had to make sure the walls were sturdy enough to hold the archways down the hall...

_Thump_

Patrick looked up once again, this time removing his reading glasses and picking up a candle from the table. It's flame lit only a few feet in front of him, but as long as he could make it to the hallway, he could see...

_Thump, thump._

"Hello?" he said, rounding into the torch-lit hallway. Nothing. The lights flickered little round shadows off the walls, but that was the only movement he could see. With a sigh he turned slowly back toward the study. As he did so, he came face to face with a black wall of cloth.

"Hello, Patrick." the wall said, making him stumble backwards with a gasp. Before him stood a tall, black clad figure, cloak and all. Smiling wickedly, the figure removed his hood with black gloved hands.

"Wh-who are-"

"Now isn't that question a mite rhetorical? You ask me who I am, I tell you and then...well, then you die. And let's be honest, who wants to waste all that time, when I could just be killing you." the figure said, flashing Patrick another smile. Canines glinted in the torch light and yellow eyes starred back at him through the darkness. For a moment, Patrick thought he was speaking with a cat, but that just seemed silly. As a matter of fact, he wasn't really sure what he was facing.

"I'll give you whatever you want. Money-"

"I don't want money, Patrick." the man hissed, smile still planted firmly on his sleek features.

"Then...please...I-" Patrick tried, finding that his throat had gone rather dry. He backed quickly away, but the creature only laughed and lunged forward, snarling like some primeval beast. Patrick screamed. The creature laughed.

With one swift, fluid motion, a pair of sharp fangs bit into Patrick's neck, piercing the thick vein that pulsed there. The animal latched on and drank deeply while Patrick tried to panic, but the strong arms pinning him to the floor seemed like led weights. It was nearly impossible to move.

But, just as he was about to give up, the weight lifted slightly. He found himself in a sort of tipsy swoon and the room began to spin as he was hauled to his feet.

"I thought about just draining you dry. But, see, where's the fun in that? Usually I would just go right on ahead and kill you, but your case seems special, Patrick." the creature said, tossing him heavily through the door of a near bye room. Even by the carpet he now lay on, Patrick could tell it was his bedroom. Their bedroom

"I don't...please..." Patrick begged, the fight leaving him like his blood had. He knew vampires were a myth. He _knew _it! He would not let himself believe that this was happening. He wanted so much for it to be a nightmare.

"Not a nightmare, mate. I's real. Your gonna die and she's gonna be alone. End of story. _That's _how it's gonna be." the man said, hauling Patrick up by his collar. Patrick was too weak to fight back, even though everything inside him screamed for him to do so.

"I gave my heart and soul for her! I loved her. She was mine!" the creature snarled, backhanding Patrick across the face. He felt bones snap and the animal gave a satisfied grunt.

"I killed every one of her friends. All of them, mate. You know why?" the man asked. Patrick blinked weakly and the animal shook him.

"Because she deserves to suffer. For every single thing she's done to me. She made me feel things..." the man stopped, looking away for a moment. It was as if he were trying to hold back tears. "She made me feel." he emphasized. Patrick could see, even in his drunken state that the man was nearly in tears. He wondered what on the earth this beast could be talking about. He knew about the killings of Cecily's inner circle, but he wasn't one of them! He wasn't a gentleman! He only wanted to marry her...

And like a bolt of lightning, it hit him. He was going to die because he was marrying this creature's...obsession. This was William. The one whom she spoke of as a prat. A nancy boy and a sham. But Patrick could see now that he was none of that. He, instead, was a love crazed animal burning with vengeance.

"I'm sorry..." Patrick croaked. The animal stopped, squinting his yellow eyes up at Patrick. His grip on Patrick's shirt loosened.

"What?"

"I said...I'm sorry." he repeated, this time slightly weaker. He was losing steam and fast.

"Sorry? S'at all you got to say for-"

"I'm sorry she'll never love you..." he faultered slightly, but dared to finish. "Like she loves me." he said with defiance. If he was going out, he was going out on top. _That_ he was sure of.

The animal screamed in sudden fury and slammed Patrick against the wall. He snarled again and flashed his fangs close to the weeping wound on the man's neck. Slowly, he took a deep breathe.

"My name is Spike, mate. Do you know _why_ my name is Spike?" he whispered close to Patrick's ear. Patrick shook his head slowly.

"Take a wild guess..." he sneered, reaching into his cloak and pulling out three dangerous looking railroad spikes. With an evil grin, he dropped Patrick to the floor and let the torchlight dance off the metal of the spikes.

_Oh, God..._ Patrick thought as the demon picked him up again by the throat. Spike snarled one final time before driving the stake into the man's thick forehead. He only laughed when a spray of blood danced over his cloak. And he only smiled at the expression of pure terror on the man's face.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

"Destroying the Gulch"

Most of the blood on his hands was not his own. In fact, he was pretty sure none of it was. But, he scrubbed away at the thick layers like they were going to eat away at his hands until there was nothing left but bone.

"Your colors are old gone. Washed away." Drusilla said sharply from the doorway of the oversized washroom. Spike shut his eyes and shook his head.

"Don't know what you mean, pet." he said softly, scraping his fingernails over the tops of his knuckles. Drusilla sighed and padded softly up beside him. He looked up into the mirror, only to stare at the bare blank wall behind him. With a sad sigh, he turned off the scolding water and dried his hands on a towel beside the sink.

"Look...Dru..." he took her by the shoulders as if he was going to kiss her. But, something flashed across his face and thought better of it. He was feeling something, but he couldn't place it. It was eating away at him, like a disease. But, Dru told him he could never ever get sick. He was immortal. He was born to kill.

"Why are you frightened?" Dru asked, still leaning against the washroom door. Spike turned to face her as he picked up his shirt from the bed.

"What?"

"You're scared, Spike. What are you afraid of?" she asked, cocking her head and taking a few steps forward.

"Scared?" he asked, horrified. He shook his head and set his jaw. "I'm not...I'm not scared of _anything_." he growled through clenched teeth.

Dru giggled and swayed lightly on her feet. "Little lies on your tongue." she whispered, bringing a finger to her lips.

"I'm not afraid, Dru." he tried, his anger bubbling inside like a boiling kettle. Dru laughed harder, still swinging her slight hips. Spike suddenly vamped out and lunged at her, throwing her against the wall.

"That's more like it." she whispered, showing him her throat. Spike breathed in and out heavily, his eyes burning into the flesh at the top of her shoulder. He still felt it. He still felt as if he had done something horrible. But, the demon muted it. The demon masked the emotions he wasn't supposed to feel. But he knew they were still there. And so did Dru. _What's wrong with me...?_

_Nothing, you prat. Go kill something._ a small voice told him. He smiled and let his features wander closer to Drusilla's wonderful neck.

"Not afraid..." he breathed, trying to convince himself the feelings weren't real. "I'm a killer..." he said, again to himself. Dru nodded slowly. _Bloody right you are._ The voice replied.

"_My_ killer." Dru hissed.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

"Cursing the Gulch"

She stood by the window, the black veil hanging like a curtain around her soft features. Several people passed behind her, whispering words of "sorry" or that it was a terrible thing to have happened. She didn't hear any of them though. She simply didn't care for sympathy. She hated pity.

"Cecily?" an unfamiliar voice cut through the din and darkness. "Cecily Adams?" Cecily closed her eyes and composed herself before turning to face the newcomer. She had no patience for anyone these last few days...

She blinked away the tears that threatened to come as she nodded toward the tall man calling her name.

"Yes?" she asked quietly, refusing to look directly at him. Still, even without facing him, she felt him smile.

"Well, hello. My name is D'Hoffryn." he said cheerily. Cecily sniffled slightly and thought hard, trying to remember if she knew anyone by that name. She couldn't think of anyone at the moment.

"How...how can I be of service Mr. D'Hoffryn?" she asked with a forced smile, folding her hands in front of her and glancing around at the quietly milling guests.

"Well," he replied, following Cecily's gaze and sighing. "There is this horrible matter of the murder of your husband." he said matter-of-factly.

Cecily's face shot up and her eyes locked with the deep black pools of D'Hoffryn's. She could only gasp slightly and press a hand to her lips. D'Hoffryn smiled warmly and took a step closer. She had never seen anyone like this! What was this creature!

"I was wondering if there was something we could do about it." he said, nodding and holding his hands out in a welcoming gesture.

"What do you want?" she breathed, backing slightly away.

"What do I want? No, no, no, Miss Adams. What do _you_ want is the question," he took another measured step forward. "What do _you_ seek?"

"Please...I..." she muttered, backing against the window panes. D'Hoffryn shook his head.

"Tell me. It's alright." he whispered, reaching out and lifting the dark veil over her head. Cecily did not move for fear of the anger she might create in the creature before her. "What do you want? And the truth, if you don't mind, dear." he said, adding the last part as if he were asking her to simple tidy a room.

"I..." she stuttered. But, suddenly, a thought ran across her mind. A flash, barely visable, but it was there. One word. Two little syllables. She smiled slightly through her tears and looked up at D'Hoffryn through clouded eyes.

"Vengeance." she replied, malice dripping like rain from her lips.


	7. Chapter 7

His arm was bent painfully backwards and he winced as the man standing behind him twisted it a little more. He felt something lance into his side and it took him a moment to realize it was the man's fingers. They were digging into his skin like they were the only thing holding him up. Maybe they were.

"Your playing awfully bad odds." the man said, a gruff, beaten tone to his voice. Spike knew he was drunk. Angelus always got drunk on Fridays. He thought it was more elegant to get hung over and have a weekend to recover. For a fleeting moment, Spike thought it was Angelus' humanity that did that to him. But, then he remembered that Angelus was far from human.

"I'm not playin' anything." Spike choked out, his cheek pressed firmly to the wall.

"Touch her again, and we'll find out just who is." Angelus whispered close to his ear. He gave Spike's arm one final tug before he released him. Spike slumped against the wall, cheek still pressed there for support.

"Wanker." Spike sighed, pushing off the wall and turning around. Darla glared at him through crystal eyes and Angelus paced heavily behind her. It had been more of mistake than anything. He simply wanted to talk to her, but instead, he managed to offend Angelus' trollip.

"Get out of my sight." the brute behind Darla breathed angrily. Darla narrowed her perfect eyes and nodded. Spike just sighed and headed for the door, resigned. But as he reached the jamb, he suddenly felt some new feeling rush through him. It was like an electric charge to his brain. He felt like punching something, like taking his anger out. Now, he had never been one to fight. In fact, he had never even thrown a punch before Dru came along. But now he felt it. He felt it roar through his veins. Taking away his thoughts and feelings. For that moment, he just didn't care.

"ing nonce." he snapped, the words coming faster and less menacing than he had intended. Some part of him knew he was going to get royally thrashed for saying what he had, and the other part just smiled knowing he was going to enjoy it.

_Enjoy it?_

_Bloody right you will..._

"What?" Angelus snarled, leaning forward over Darla's shoulder as if it would help him hear better.

"Ya. You 'eard me. Nonce." he said, jabbing his chin at his grandsire. He licked his lips and smiled. Angelus, however, was not smiling.

In one quick and blurring motion, Angelus was before his Childe. His face morphed into the mask of the demon and he took no time in raising his fist over Spike's face. Narrowing his eyes, Angelus gripped Spike by the shirt front and snarled.

"You'll learn quickly not ta call me things a that sort." he said, smiling through fangs. Spike cocked his head and laughed. But it didn't last long. Before he could even blink again, Angelus' fist rained down hard on Spike's nose. Again and again the monster snapped his head back with blow after blow. Spike gave no indication of fighting back. Part of him knew it was useless. The other part was still laughing.

And through the spatters of blood, Spike could tell Angelus was enjoying himself. Spike had to admit, he wasn't exactly having the worst time either.


	8. Chapter 8

She sat watching him as he prowled the streets with a whore attached to his arm. _So this is Spike._ She thought acidly. He had obviously become something completely different than the William she new. Instead of the insecure eunice she pinned William for, he now walked as if he owned the world. It only made her angrier.

_Now, now, William. Manners._ she thought to herself, uncrossing her legs and standing from the cafe chair. She paid the waiter with a gold piece and stepped out onto the street, following closely behind Spike. The woman on his arm floated along, glancing this way and that as if she were hunting. She reminded Cecily far too much of a cat...

Soon, they wound their way to a deserted alley, where thick fog found its way each night. Cecily screwed up her courage and followed them as they slipped into the inky blackness.

When the fog cleared enough to be able to see, she realized that the alley was now empty. But where had they gone? It was a dead end. Cecily turned around, looking and searching through the darkness.

"Looking for someone?" a voice asked from her left. She jumped and placed a gloved hand over her chest.

"Oh! You frightened me, sir." she said, trying her best to put up a civil act. The man smiled and stepped fully into the light of the moon and castings of the street lamps.

William.

"Well now. Isn't this a surprise." William said, placing his hands behind his back and smirking at her. Cecily shuddered and stepped backwards slightly.

"I wonder. What exactly was it you planned to do once you found me?" he asked mockingly, mirroring her step and closing the gap between them. Cecily's eyes went wide for a moment and she watched as William's face changed. Bones shifted and ridges formed above his eyes. And his eyes? Now they glowed with their own light and their own malice.

"I killed you're husband, Miss Adams. I'm sure I can follow through and kill you as well." he hissed, smiling through a fanged grin.

Cecily's rage boiled silently inside. _Not yet..._ She silenced her inner demon.

Spike advanced on her again, flashing fang.

"I wouldn't try anything." Cecily warned, taking yet another step back.

Spike advanced. "And why's that Cecily?"

She stopped walking and took a deep breathe.

"Because I'm not Cecily any longer." she whispered, lowing her head as her face made the change. Skin rippled and shifted. When she faced Spike again, he narrowed his brow in confusion.

"My name is Halfrek, William," she said, smiling and showing off her new demon. "And I know exactly what I'm going to do to you."

"And...what is that, pet?" Spike asked cautiously, brow still knit in worry. Halfrek laughed slightly.

"Just a little vengeance." she said wickedly.


	9. Chapter 9

Without another word, she drove forward and landed a ringing blow across Spike's exposed chin. His head flew backwards and spun him toward the alley wall, but he quickly caught himself and turned back to face the demon Cecily had become. He snarled in rage, letting his demon come forward. No woman was going to beat him at his own game.

"This is because I killed that bastard-" Spike began, taking a few steps toward Halfrek. She cut him off with another sharp blow, which he took. With the pain ebbing away, a smile appeared on his lips and a feral growl grew in his chest.

"This is because you killed my _husband_, William." She hissed, balling her fists again at her sides. Spike cocked his head and kept well out of the way of her reckless hands.

"I don't usually harm fine ladies, my dear," Spike replied, putting his hands behind his back and sneering. Halfrek took another jab with her fist, missing his midsection by a few inches. Spike snarled, reached out and countered with a fair kick to her chin, snapping her head back. "Lucky for me, I'm not fighting a lady."

"Murderer!" She whispered, launching herself again at Spike. He countered by lashing out with his left foot and hitting her squarely in the stomach. Her body flew back and landed in a heap at the mouth of the alley. With a loud snarl, Spike stalked toward her. When he was within striking distance, she shot up and swept low with her leg, brushing his feet out from under him. With a crack he landed on his back, leaving his chest exposed.

"You took my life from me!" she snarled, leaping on top of him and wrapping her slender fingers around his throat. Suddenly, her eyes caught the glint of the oil lamps that cut through the mist and Spike could clearly see the tears staining her cheeks. He reached up and pried the little fingers from around his windpipe and pushed her off of him, dropping her on her bottom a few feet from him.

"And you took mine!" he snarled back, the demon suddenly dropping from his face. He stood and wiped his eyes, feeling the sting of tears threatening to take over his emotions. He turned from her, hoping she couldn't see the pitiful look on his face. With a deep breathe, he silently cursed himself for his weakness.

"William..."

"Don't." He snapped, turning back to face her. He took a deep breathe and pointed a finger toward her. "Don't you dare, you soddin' wench!"

Halfrek's lips parted, as if she were going to say something, but no sound came out. Her demon visage dropped suddenly and her beautiful features were back. And there she sat; wet, cold skirts draped around her pale legs.

"I took nothing from you..." she whispered to him, his face turned toward the street. He was still fighting off the tears. "William, I did nothing to hurt you."

Spike snorted, looking up with a wickedly sarcastic smile. "Nothing? No, of course not."

"I thought surely you understood. I had to...William, I was engaged." She said, standing carefully and dusting off her skirts as best she could. Spike looked up, warily, as if she were going to punch him again.

"Cecily, I broke your heart," he stopped, shaking his head as the tears finally came. He sighed and looked upward. "I broke your heart...so you would know what it feels like. So they," he thrust a pointed finger out of the mouth of the alley. "So they would know what it felt like to be in that much pain."

"William..."

"No!" he raged stepping forward. "You killed that man, you bitch! This," he pressed a hand over his chest. "This...William is dead. I'm a..." he thought quickly, thrusting his chin forward. "I'm a heartless demon now." He said almost as if he were convincing himself. Part of him realized that he was. The part that was screaming for him to just run away and beg God for mercy.


	10. Epilouge

"Daddy?" a voice broke through the din of the alley and Spike quickly turned to face it. "Daddy, why is the nasty lit'l insect talking to you?" she asked, stepping out of the haze and wrapping her arms around his waist. Spike took a long look at Cecily as she stood in wonder. Her eyes darted from Dru to Spike and back again. Spike sighed and closed his eyes.

"Nothing, luv. We were just talking." He replied, lying as best he could.

"Tut, tut, Daddy. Mummy knows your secrets. And that one," she pointed toward Cecily. "Is a buzzing little worm."

"Worms don't buzz." Spike reminded her softly, taking her hand and rubbing his thumb over the palm.

"Wicked, wicked worm. May I tear her eyes out?" she asked, smiling and looking at him from over his shoulder.

"No." He replied coldly. "She was just about to be on her way."

Drusilla made a soft growling noise toward Cecily and Spike lowered his gaze to her.

"Good. Mummy doesn't like it when her baby boy gets all tangled in sticky webs. Webs that aren't his own." She said coldly, her face shifting to the demon. Spike sighed and gave one last look at Cecily before she began to leave. As she turned her back and started to disappear into the night, she turned back.

"Forgive me, William. I fear your heart will always be so easily broken." She said back to him. Spike furrowed his brow at her words and watched soundlessly as the pendant around her neck glowed brightly. He cocked his head and watched as she turned and fled the alley.

"Whispers, whispers. Someday you'll know all about the whispers." Dru breathed into his ear. Spike just shook his head and leaned in to kiss his dark beauty.


End file.
